sam_storyteller (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sam_storyteller) wrote2005-07-08 03:18 pm
sam_storyteller) wrote2005-07-08 03:18 pm
Entry tags:
Harry Potter and the Legion of Ghosts, Ch. 3
Warning: DH spoilers through the end of the book.
Notes: Thanks toimaginarycircus for betaz leik wo. :D
The song in this chapter is a folk song from the north of England; you can read the original lyrics and click a link to hear a midi of the song here.
First posted 8.13.07
Chapter Three: Dance Ti Thy Daddy
Andromeda's house was tidy, but not the painful tidiness Harry recalled from his time with the Dursleys. There were toys on the floor, here and there, and Teddy's shoes always seemed to be right underfoot when Harry stepped out of the floo, but that was all. This time he managed not to stumble over them as he emerged, dusting the soot from his clothing.
"Good morning, Harry!" Andromeda called, her voice echoing down the hallway. "We'll be right out."
"Harry!" came Teddy's excited cry, but his next words were oddly muffled.
"Teddy is not allowed out until he puts his shirt on," Andromeda continued. "I swear he'd run around naked if let."
"Would too," Teddy added, emerging from the hall and tugging on the Harpies shirt that Ginny had given him for his last birthday. He walked up to Harry and solemnly opened his arms for a hug.
"But it's such a nice shirt," Harry said, hugging him and lifting his cheek so that Andromeda could give it a peck.
"S'okay," Teddy agreed. "Going to River Hollow?"
"Yes, you are," Andromeda said. "And Harry will probably feed you food that's quite bad for you and stuff your head with terrible stories."
"That was the general idea," Harry agreed.
"Good. Children need that now and again. Your godfather and I have to have a little talk first, however; why don't you run and get your bag?" Andromeda said to Teddy. "And go to the kitchen and ask the cupboard nicely for some tarts."
"Don't go without me," Teddy said to Harry, who grinned and sat down. Andromeda, ever-composed, sank onto the sofa next to him.
"This sounds serious," Harry said. "There's nothing wrong with him, is there? He's not sick?"
"No, nothing like that," Andromeda replied. "I just thought we should discuss Teddy's future."
"Like...schooling?" Harry knit his brow. "He's only four, he's got a good seven years before Hogwarts. His name's already down on the list. I suppose you want to find him a good primary school."
Andromeda sighed. "Not quite that far in the future. It's hard for me to discuss this with you, Harry; he is my grandson."
"I know," Harry said quietly.
"But with you and Ginevra getting married, and that tremendous house of yours...well, I thought perhaps you'd been considering a change in our arrangement. We both agreed that a seventeen-year-old is not the ideal parent for an infant child, especially since you had your own troubles to be going on with, Harry."
"I'm grateful you wanted to help," Harry murmured.
"Of course I did." She cut her eyes away from Harry. "But you're grown-up now, and you have the means to provide for him, and Nymphadora and Remus both agreed, when you were asked...I suppose what I'm wondering is, when you marry Ginevra, if you'll want to take Teddy to live with you."
"Andromeda, if he's too much -- " Harry touched her shoulder. "If you need to give him up of course I'd take him in a heartbeat, but do you really think that's wise? You're the only mum he's ever had..."
He bit his lip. Andromeda, always poised and elegant, was crying.
"He's not too much," she said, and though he could see the tears on her cheeks her voice hardly wavered. "It isn't that, it's just -- you are his godfather, and I know how much you love him too...but I don't want you to take him away from me, Harry. He's all I have."
"Oh, balls. Andi, no," Harry said, awkwardly rubbing her arm. "Besides, that'd be hard on him, being uprooted. You've looked after him all this time and you do a good job and Merlin knows I'm grateful, because I'm sure Remus never expected -- I mean. Sure, we could take him to live with us, but we wouldn't do that to you unless you asked."
Teddy appeared in the doorway again, and Harry cursed his timing. Why was the child so fast?
The little boy's face darkened when he saw Andromeda wiping her face, and he strode purposefully up to Harry.
"What's wrong?" he demanded, his hair turning a disturbing shade of orange. He grabbed his grandmother's legs, clinging tightly.
"Nothing, darling," Andromeda said, gathering him up on her lap. "It's not Harry's fault. I'm just sad because I'll miss you."
Teddy looked indecisive. Harry could see holiday-with-godfather warring with crying-grandmother. "You can come with," he offered finally.
"No, of course not. You want to go stay with Harry for a day or two, don't you? You'll have such fun," Andromeda said, wiping the last of the tears away. "And you can floocall me every night so I'm not lonely, and tell me all the exciting things you did."
"Okay," Teddy said uncertainly. Slowly, the orange faded back to blue.
"Now, run along with you. Have fun, remember to say please and thank you," she said, sliding him deftly off her lap. Harry watched her watch Teddy as the boy walked to the fireplace and began putting on his shoes.
"Thank you," she said softly to Harry.
"We're family too, Andromeda," he answered. "You know you're both welcome at the Hollow anytime."
Something glinted on the edge of his vision and he turned, looking for what it could have been; Teddy tumbling into the fireplace or something falling, any number of dangers. All he saw was the boy, with a backpack almost as large as himself, waiting impatiently.
"Say goodbye to your grandmother," he said, and Teddy ran back to kiss Andromeda on the cheek.
"Bye!" he said, waving at her. Harry gathered him up into his arms, holding the squirming body tight against his own.
"Hold still," he said, and Teddy immediately stopped moving. He tossed floo powder into the small fire.
"River in the Hollow!" he said, and Andromeda vanished in a whirl.
The first thing Teddy did when they stepped out of the floo again was to demand to see The Stars. Harry obediently led him into the living room and lifted him up onto a chair so he could press his nose against the glass-fronted frame and stare, awestruck, at the shiny medals inside.
Harry didn't have much on his walls in the way of boasting; no photos of himself, no press clippings, and his Order of Merlin was in a box somewhere in his school trunk. He did have a few team photos of Ginny with the Harpies, and some pictures of various friends, but the only evidence that he had even been associated with the last war were the two medals in a single frame that Teddy always demanded to see.
Lupin's Order of Merlin was mounted on the right, its thirteen-pointed star looking rather spiky and warlike against the white matting. On the left Nymphadora's Shield of Valour, the highest honour given to Aurors for extraordinary service, hung on a black cord, its blue enamel shining brightly.
"Dad and Mum," Teddy said, pointing.
"That's right. And when you turn seventeen -- "
"I get the Stars, for keeps," Teddy finished, looking at Harry. "Promise?"
"Promise. Your dad and mum were very brave, you know."
"I know," Teddy said, sliding down the upholstery and bouncing off the chair. "We go look at the fish inna river now?"
Harry smiled. "Course."
"And after can we have sanniches?"
"Sure."
"And after, we can go to Diagon Alley?"
"If you like."
"And after after -- "
"After after, we're going to come back here and take a nap," Harry said firmly.
There it was again, the flash in the corner of his eye, like sunlight on metal. Harry turned more slowly this time, but still found nothing there.
Clearly the stress of not working was getting to him.
***
Harry was unendingly amused by Teddy's energy; the tiny child, who had to run to keep up with adults and climbed everything for fun, still managed to wear him out. He was tired long before Teddy was, though perhaps it was because Teddy got naps.
After Teddy had woken from his nap and they'd had a quiet dinner with Ginny and the floocall to Andromeda, the boy seemed to want nothing better than to scale every piece of furniture in Harry's house. The stream that ran through River in the Hollow was charmed, of course, so that he couldn't fall in, but he delighted in testing the charm, walking around on the invisible barrier a few inches above the river and bending down to peer in. He already had a scraped knee and a bruised elbow from the day's events, but that was par for the course with Ted Lupin. That night it was warm enough that Harry conjured two cots in the courtyard and they slept suspended over the grass, staring at the stars until Teddy wound down and his regular breathing told Harry that he was sleeping. Harry, exhausted, wasn't long in following.
When he woke, it was because he heard something; someone singing in the distance, perhaps, echoing down into the courtyard. He was lying on his side, and when he opened his eyes he was reassured. Teddy was sleeping quietly.
Except someone else was sitting on the ground near Teddy's bed, and as Harry watched a nimble-fingered hand stroked back a lock of unruly blue hair, smoothing it against his head. Just another dream, then; it must be Teddy, making him think of Remus, because Remus was dead and not a ghost, and yet there he was.
His godson's father sat crosslegged at the head of the cot, that oddly out-of-place sword still on his belt, stroking his son's hair. His mouth hardly moved, but Harry could hear him sing softly, a little out of key.
Dance ti thy daddy, sing ti thy mammy,
Dance ti thy daddy, ti thy mammy sing.
Harry didn't know the song, but Remus clearly did.
Here's thy mother humming,
Like a canny woman;
Yonder comes thy father,
Drunk he cannot stand;
Dance ti thy daddy, sing ti thy mammy...
Harry glanced down at the sword, resting on the ground and sticking out a little behind the man wearing it. Remus was in shades of grey and white, no colour to him, and the sword was likewise; the rubies in the pommel and hilt were black. It was sheathed in a scabbard that was deep gray with more black gemstones laid into it.
Harry heard Remus chuckle, and he redirected his attentions to the singing. Teddy slept on, oblivious.
Here is little Teddy
Dreaming in his bed --
Near him bigger Harry
Watching over him,
Dance ti thy daddy, sing ti thy mammy,
Dance ti thy daddy, ti thy mammy sing.
Remus glanced up at Harry as he finished, a half-smile still on his face. When he saw Harry's eyes open, he hesitated; he glanced from Teddy to Harry and back again, the smile disappearing into a thoughtful frown. Harry, curious, pushed himself up on one elbow, turning to look at him properly.
Their eyes met, Harry's green eyes and the grayish ones that had been brown in life. Remus fell backwards onto his elbows, startled.
"You can see me," he said, shocked. Harry blinked.
"It's a dream, isn't it?" he asked. Remus struggled backwards and pushed himself to his feet.
"Bugger -- SIRIUS! SIRIUS!"
And then Sirius was there, appearing in the midst of movement, as if he'd been running and Apparating at the same time. He had his wand out and it was his Sirius, not the one he'd seen the day he defeated Voldemort -- an older Sirius, hair falling in his eyes, lines in his face thrown in stark relief by the gray tone of his skin.
"I'm here! What is it? He was sleeping!" he said, looking around like a dog on the scent.
"Sirius," Harry breathed, and Sirius turned to look at him.
"He can see us," Remus whispered.
"Bollocks," Sirius said uncertainly. "Harry," he added, cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting unnecessarily. "If -- you -- can -- see -- us -- say -- so."
"Of course I can see you," Harry retorted. Both men blanched.
"TONKS!" Sirius shouted, apparently into the air. "SEND HELP!"
"Help for what?" Harry asked, but even as he asked it he heard distant shouting. He turned in the direction of the noise -- his fireplace inside, it sounded like -- and when he turned back both men were gone.
Someone was still shouting for him, though.
"HARRY! HARRY! ARE YOU THERE?"
Arthur's voice. Harry slid off the cot, checked to see that Teddy was fine, and ran inside.
"I'm here, Arthur, Christ," he said. "It's two in the morning, what's going on?"
"Are you all right, lad?" Arthur asked, looking worried -- and also like he'd just rolled out of bed himself.
"Of course I am. Shouldn't I be?" Harry asked, perplexed.
"No, you should, certainly..." Arthur trailed off, then gave Harry the most embarrassed look he'd ever seen. "Sorry, Harry. Call it paternal instinct -- I just had the sudden urge to floo."
"Well, I'm all right," Harry said. "Got Teddy here, we're camping out. I'd better get back to him, too."
"Certainly, of course. Well -- floo if you need anything at all, all right?"
"Sure, Arthur," Harry said, and leaned out of the flames.
He walked back to the courtyard with apprehension, not certain what he would find there; as it turned out, only Teddy, still in his cot but with his eyes open.
"Hey," Harry said, lying down on his own cot next to the boy's. "You shouldn't be up."
"Where'd you go?" Teddy asked.
"Nowhere -- I'm back now. You can go back to sleep."
"I want a story," Teddy said, then added, "Please."
Harry smiled indulgently. It was his job to spoil the kid, after all. "All right, lean back. Now, you see all those stars up there?"
"Mm-hm."
"They were all named for heroes that used to be. See those six over there? I'll tell you a story about them..."
***
The next day was one for visiting; Harry brushed Teddy's hair, made sure he looked presentable, and after breakfast they went to Shell Cottage to see Bill and Fleur and little Victoire. Harry sat in the sunny kitchen with Fleur, catching up on the family gossip (she hadn't yet heard about Ron and Hermione getting Not Married) while they watched Bill play rough-and-tumble with the children.
"Well, marriage ees not for ever'one," Fleur reflected, brushing and braiding her long silver-white hair. "Per'aps 'Ermione does not 'ave zee temperament for eet."
"She doesn't seem to mind the idea of living with him," Harry answered. "Maybe she's afraid."
"Afraid of what, 'appiness?" Fleur asked. Harry watched as Bill spun around, Teddy clinging to one arm, little Victoire holding onto the other, her red hair streaked in front with white and flying in the wind.
"Maybe a little," Harry said.
"I do not know. Per'aps you zink so because you are, eh 'Arry?"
Harry looked up sharply.
"Are you afraid of 'appiness?"
"No -- this is what I want," he said. "A family. A normal life. It's what I've always wanted."
"Mm," Fleur said, smiling tolerantly at him. "Zen eet ees good you picked zee beegest, loudest family you could find."
"Maybe so," Harry said, grinning. "You should come round for dinner sometime, the three of you."
"Zank you, 'Arry," Fleur said, securing the tip of her braid with a knot of ribbon. "We will, of course."
At that moment Victoire burst into the house, squealing. "Teddy a mangé un bug! Un bug colossal!"
"Did not!" Teddy called, following after.
"Did so," Victoire insisted, turning to face him. Teddy balled his fists, looming over her by all of an inch.
"Did not!"
"Did!"
"Five Galleons says they fall in love by the time they're out of Hogwarts," Harry said to Bill.
"You're on," Bill answered, scooping up Victoire and setting her on the chair next to Harry.
"Come on, trouble, it's time to say bye," Harry said, jerking his head at the floo. "We're going to see Professor Longbottom now."
"Goodbye Victoire," Teddy said sullenly.
"And what do you say to Bill and Fleur?"
"Thank you."
"Good lad." Harry pointed at Bill. "I'll expect those five Galleons in 2016."
Bill's laughter was the last thing they heard as they stepped into the floo.
***
Neville didn't spend much time in his office during the school year, preoccupied as he was with students and his Herbology experiments out in the greenhouse. In the summers, however, the castle was cool and quiet and Harry rather thought Neville could use the break. He knew that, as brave as Neville had been in their last years at Hogwarts, he was still shy and sometimes indrawn; Neville confessed that he still got nervous every time he was confronted with a new class of first-years, until he got to know them.
"Afternoon, Harry," Neville said, looking up from a book as the pair of them emerged from the floo. "Hallo, Teddy, how're you?"
"Fine, thanks," Teddy said, then turned to Harry. "I can play with people?"
"Not today, I'm afraid," Harry said. "They've all gone home for the summer."
"Why?"
"It's what students do." Harry set him down and opened the office door. "But I tell you what, if you're very good and don't wander, you can explore the hallway -- see, from there," he pointed to the stairwell at one end, "to here. You can talk to the paintings if you want."
Teddy ambled off without a backwards glance, accosting a low-hung painting of three elderly witches, and Harry left the door open as he ducked back inside.
"Your letter this morning seemed a little upset," Neville said, putting the book aside and kicking a chair over with one foot. Harry caught it and sat backwards on it, resting his arms on the back. His eyes were drawn upwards, to the wooden bracket that hung (well out of reach of curious students) above Neville's fireplace. Neville followed his gaze, smiling faintly at the Sword of Gryffindor mounted on the bracket. "Not nervous about the sword, are you? Don't tell me the Wizarding World needs a champion again."
"God, I hope not," Harry said feelingly.
"Oh, speaking of which, this'll amuse you -- guess who I had in class this year."
"Who?" Harry asked.
"Agamemnon Umbridge."
Harry blinked. "Relation to...?"
"Her son. Can you imagine? Someone spawned with that odious woman." Neville laughed. "I guess it's true there's someone for everyone."
"But that means he would have been born when we were -- "
"First-years, more or less. Apparently when she came to teach she left him with a nanny. He's not a bad student, actually, though I did have to train him out of using every composition as a soapbox. He has some hazy idea of what she stood for...he'll learn, I think. I wish..."
"What?"
"Something I never thought I'd say, but I wish Snape was still around. He'd crush that kid like a bug, get whatever was worthwhile bleeding up to the surface, and then crush him again just to make sure it stayed there. I never appreciated his technique till I was a teacher myself."
"He wasn't a good teacher."
"No, but he was an effective one." Neville sighed. "Probably not a good memory to bring up. Anyway, you wanted to talk to me."
"It's just...I had some questions for you."
"For me?" Neville looked pleased. "Well, I'll try to answer as best I can, Harry, you know that, but I can't imagine what you'd want from a dusty professor."
"It's stupid, really," Harry said. "I was wondering if I could...take the Sword down for a bit. Try it out, you know."
Neville waved a hand at the bracket. "Be my guest. Any reason why?"
"Sort of," Harry said, dragging the chair over and stepping up on it to lift the Sword of Gryffindor out of its mount. He jumped down lightly, sword in hand, and tested its weight. It felt warm in his grip. He swung it in an experimental arc.
"Mind the lamp," Neville said dryly.
"Sorry. It feels real, doesn't it?"
"Do you think it isn't?" Neville asked. "I suppose someone might have swapped it out on me, but I doubt it."
"Not precisely swapped."
"Harry, you're being awfully cryptic. You sound like Dumbledore, a bit," Neville observed.
"I thought I saw someone else with it -- a ghost, I guess," Harry replied, turning the sword so that it hung point-downwards, hilt gripped in one hand. The rubies sparkled in the sunlight. "I've been seeing things lately and I'm not sure if they're real."
Neville regarded him warily. Harry shrugged, sighed, and shook his head.
"Do you think you're hexed?" Neville asked. "Want me to have a look at you?"
"I can't imagine I am, but if you like..." Harry propped the sword against a bookcase and spread his arms.
Neville stood, a serious frown of concentration on his face, and walked forward until he was eye-to-eye with Harry, close enough for discomfort. He raised his hands and, cocking his head for tacit permission, touched Harry's temples, then his throat. Harry would never have allowed such familiarity from a stranger, even from a Healer, but Neville's touch was cool and clinical, almost detached. He shook his wand out of his sleeve and pressed it to Harry's heart, then drew it downwards to the buckle of his belt. He bent and examined his ankles and the toe-tips of his shoes.
"Well, I can't see anything unusual," he said finally, moving away. "I don't suppose you want to tell me what it is you see, precisely?"
"Not yet."
"Does it worry you?" Neville asked, and Harry saw a flicker of old fear in his friend's eyes.
"I wouldn't say worry. They don't seem to mean any harm. I guess I'm getting paranoid in my old age," Harry grinned.
"Well, that's the way it is with us," Neville replied, seating himself once more. Harry sat too, reaching out to take the sword, holding it between his hands, the sharp point pressed against the stone floor.
"How do you mean that?" he asked.
"The paranoia?" Neville laughed, nervously. "Look at us, Harry. You and Ron are Aurors, Hermione works for the MLE, poor Luna never stays in one place long enough to put down roots...we're still fighting the war. I think sometimes we will be, our whole lives."
"Even you, Professor?" Harry asked.
Neville's face, no longer the round, chubby face of a schoolboy, seemed to lengthen, the shadows falling deeper in his cheeks.
"When I came back to Hogwarts two years ago, everyone thought I was taking over Herbology from Professor Sprout," he said softly. "Everyone expected it. When Sprout retires in a few years I probably will, too. But that wasn't the job that was going, and it wasn't the one I wanted back then. I had to fight McGonagall to get her to give me the Defence Against the Dark Arts job, even though nobody else would take it. I didn't even know why then, couldn't have told her, and she asked many times. Academia gives you a lot of time to think, though..."
"And?" Harry prompted.
"I discovered I'd chosen this job, here, because when the war came again I wanted the children to know how to fight."
Harry leaned back, startled. "Neville, that's eight kinds of messed up. The war's not coming again."
"Don't think I haven't told myself that. But isn't that why you're an Auror? To make sure it doesn't? So that when it does, you'll see it coming?"
Harry felt as if he'd been slapped in the face. He never expected Neville to be insightful, especially not so sharply, painfully so.
"See?" Neville asked. "You know, after it all happened I had a hard time. I know you remember. Barely ate, barely spoke to anyone...I used to wrap the sword up in a sheet and sleep with it at night. Just in case. It took me almost a year to feel safe again. I still dream that I muffed it somehow, that I missed the snake and it all ended in death..."
"Neville, please," Harry said, ears ringing.
"Sorry. Sorry," Neville muttered, turning his face away. Harry exhaled slowly. "But it's true, isn't it. And now you come to me and tell me you're seeing things, and we all know last time you saw things too."
"This is different."
"I hope to Merlin so, Harry. I really do."
Harry wasn't sure what to say, but he was saved by a noise from the hallway -- a childish yelp of glee followed shortly by a low, catlike yowl. He held up a hand and listened; after a second, Teddy shoved the door open wider, staggering inside.
He was carrying a cat, arms wrapped around its midsection the way children carry cats that are almost as big as they are. The cat herself wore a humiliated, long-suffering look, but her claws were sheathed.
"Kitty," Teddy said proudly, presenting himself to the two men.
"Yes," Harry said. "Put the Headmistress down, Teddy."
"Good kitty," Teddy pronounced, setting her on the floor and patting her head roughly. There was a hiss of indrawn breath, and up from the floor spiraled the familiar, black-clad form of Headmistress McGonagall.
Teddy stared up at her in awe. "Cool!"
"Thank you, Theodore," she answered, straightening her robes. "Good afternoon, Harry. I wasn't aware you were visiting Hogwarts."
"Neville and I've just been talking over old war stories," Harry said with a smile. McGonagall wasn't fooled; he watched in dismay as her eyes slid down to the sword he still held in both hands, its nickless blade gleaming. Suddenly he felt eleven years old again; from the expression on Neville's face, he wasn't the only one.
"Well," she said, in carefully measured tones, "I'm certain you won't let past glory go to your heads."
"Not at all," Harry agreed, trying to be casual while holding a large sword. He swung his leg over the chair, stepped up, and replaced the sword in its bracket. "You know me, Headmistress," he grunted, securing it firmly. "I never let fame bother me."
"Glad to hear it. Neville, if you aren't too busy, there are some items I'd like to go over with you for the new school year..."
"Right you are," Neville agreed shakily. "Thanks for coming by, Harry."
"I appreciate it. Teddy, time to go back to the Hollow," Harry said, taking the boy's hand. Teddy was still staring at McGonagall, eyes wide as saucers.
"She's a cat," he whispered to Harry.
"Don't let her know," Harry whispered back. McGonagall touched his arm.
"I don't see you as often as I would like," she said, her face less disapproving now. "Come to tea sometime, Harry; the sooner, the better."
Harry smiled back. "Of course. I'll be in touch, I promise."
"Good," she said, and let him go. Neville was rummaging in his desk, and held up a roll of parchment triumphantly.
"Before you leave, Harry," he said, offering it to him. "Here. It's some research notes on, uh, what we talked about. Might help."
"Ta." Harry tucked the scroll in his pocket and led Teddy to the floo. "Always a pleasure, Headmistress."
"Likewise," she replied, her eyes drifting back to the sword. "Travel safely, Harry."
"I always do."
Continue to the next part
Notes: Thanks to
imaginarycircus for betaz leik wo. :D The song in this chapter is a folk song from the north of England; you can read the original lyrics and click a link to hear a midi of the song here.
First posted 8.13.07
Chapter Three: Dance Ti Thy Daddy
Andromeda's house was tidy, but not the painful tidiness Harry recalled from his time with the Dursleys. There were toys on the floor, here and there, and Teddy's shoes always seemed to be right underfoot when Harry stepped out of the floo, but that was all. This time he managed not to stumble over them as he emerged, dusting the soot from his clothing.
"Good morning, Harry!" Andromeda called, her voice echoing down the hallway. "We'll be right out."
"Harry!" came Teddy's excited cry, but his next words were oddly muffled.
"Teddy is not allowed out until he puts his shirt on," Andromeda continued. "I swear he'd run around naked if let."
"Would too," Teddy added, emerging from the hall and tugging on the Harpies shirt that Ginny had given him for his last birthday. He walked up to Harry and solemnly opened his arms for a hug.
"But it's such a nice shirt," Harry said, hugging him and lifting his cheek so that Andromeda could give it a peck.
"S'okay," Teddy agreed. "Going to River Hollow?"
"Yes, you are," Andromeda said. "And Harry will probably feed you food that's quite bad for you and stuff your head with terrible stories."
"That was the general idea," Harry agreed.
"Good. Children need that now and again. Your godfather and I have to have a little talk first, however; why don't you run and get your bag?" Andromeda said to Teddy. "And go to the kitchen and ask the cupboard nicely for some tarts."
"Don't go without me," Teddy said to Harry, who grinned and sat down. Andromeda, ever-composed, sank onto the sofa next to him.
"This sounds serious," Harry said. "There's nothing wrong with him, is there? He's not sick?"
"No, nothing like that," Andromeda replied. "I just thought we should discuss Teddy's future."
"Like...schooling?" Harry knit his brow. "He's only four, he's got a good seven years before Hogwarts. His name's already down on the list. I suppose you want to find him a good primary school."
Andromeda sighed. "Not quite that far in the future. It's hard for me to discuss this with you, Harry; he is my grandson."
"I know," Harry said quietly.
"But with you and Ginevra getting married, and that tremendous house of yours...well, I thought perhaps you'd been considering a change in our arrangement. We both agreed that a seventeen-year-old is not the ideal parent for an infant child, especially since you had your own troubles to be going on with, Harry."
"I'm grateful you wanted to help," Harry murmured.
"Of course I did." She cut her eyes away from Harry. "But you're grown-up now, and you have the means to provide for him, and Nymphadora and Remus both agreed, when you were asked...I suppose what I'm wondering is, when you marry Ginevra, if you'll want to take Teddy to live with you."
"Andromeda, if he's too much -- " Harry touched her shoulder. "If you need to give him up of course I'd take him in a heartbeat, but do you really think that's wise? You're the only mum he's ever had..."
He bit his lip. Andromeda, always poised and elegant, was crying.
"He's not too much," she said, and though he could see the tears on her cheeks her voice hardly wavered. "It isn't that, it's just -- you are his godfather, and I know how much you love him too...but I don't want you to take him away from me, Harry. He's all I have."
"Oh, balls. Andi, no," Harry said, awkwardly rubbing her arm. "Besides, that'd be hard on him, being uprooted. You've looked after him all this time and you do a good job and Merlin knows I'm grateful, because I'm sure Remus never expected -- I mean. Sure, we could take him to live with us, but we wouldn't do that to you unless you asked."
Teddy appeared in the doorway again, and Harry cursed his timing. Why was the child so fast?
The little boy's face darkened when he saw Andromeda wiping her face, and he strode purposefully up to Harry.
"What's wrong?" he demanded, his hair turning a disturbing shade of orange. He grabbed his grandmother's legs, clinging tightly.
"Nothing, darling," Andromeda said, gathering him up on her lap. "It's not Harry's fault. I'm just sad because I'll miss you."
Teddy looked indecisive. Harry could see holiday-with-godfather warring with crying-grandmother. "You can come with," he offered finally.
"No, of course not. You want to go stay with Harry for a day or two, don't you? You'll have such fun," Andromeda said, wiping the last of the tears away. "And you can floocall me every night so I'm not lonely, and tell me all the exciting things you did."
"Okay," Teddy said uncertainly. Slowly, the orange faded back to blue.
"Now, run along with you. Have fun, remember to say please and thank you," she said, sliding him deftly off her lap. Harry watched her watch Teddy as the boy walked to the fireplace and began putting on his shoes.
"Thank you," she said softly to Harry.
"We're family too, Andromeda," he answered. "You know you're both welcome at the Hollow anytime."
Something glinted on the edge of his vision and he turned, looking for what it could have been; Teddy tumbling into the fireplace or something falling, any number of dangers. All he saw was the boy, with a backpack almost as large as himself, waiting impatiently.
"Say goodbye to your grandmother," he said, and Teddy ran back to kiss Andromeda on the cheek.
"Bye!" he said, waving at her. Harry gathered him up into his arms, holding the squirming body tight against his own.
"Hold still," he said, and Teddy immediately stopped moving. He tossed floo powder into the small fire.
"River in the Hollow!" he said, and Andromeda vanished in a whirl.
The first thing Teddy did when they stepped out of the floo again was to demand to see The Stars. Harry obediently led him into the living room and lifted him up onto a chair so he could press his nose against the glass-fronted frame and stare, awestruck, at the shiny medals inside.
Harry didn't have much on his walls in the way of boasting; no photos of himself, no press clippings, and his Order of Merlin was in a box somewhere in his school trunk. He did have a few team photos of Ginny with the Harpies, and some pictures of various friends, but the only evidence that he had even been associated with the last war were the two medals in a single frame that Teddy always demanded to see.
Lupin's Order of Merlin was mounted on the right, its thirteen-pointed star looking rather spiky and warlike against the white matting. On the left Nymphadora's Shield of Valour, the highest honour given to Aurors for extraordinary service, hung on a black cord, its blue enamel shining brightly.
"Dad and Mum," Teddy said, pointing.
"That's right. And when you turn seventeen -- "
"I get the Stars, for keeps," Teddy finished, looking at Harry. "Promise?"
"Promise. Your dad and mum were very brave, you know."
"I know," Teddy said, sliding down the upholstery and bouncing off the chair. "We go look at the fish inna river now?"
Harry smiled. "Course."
"And after can we have sanniches?"
"Sure."
"And after, we can go to Diagon Alley?"
"If you like."
"And after after -- "
"After after, we're going to come back here and take a nap," Harry said firmly.
There it was again, the flash in the corner of his eye, like sunlight on metal. Harry turned more slowly this time, but still found nothing there.
Clearly the stress of not working was getting to him.
***
Harry was unendingly amused by Teddy's energy; the tiny child, who had to run to keep up with adults and climbed everything for fun, still managed to wear him out. He was tired long before Teddy was, though perhaps it was because Teddy got naps.
After Teddy had woken from his nap and they'd had a quiet dinner with Ginny and the floocall to Andromeda, the boy seemed to want nothing better than to scale every piece of furniture in Harry's house. The stream that ran through River in the Hollow was charmed, of course, so that he couldn't fall in, but he delighted in testing the charm, walking around on the invisible barrier a few inches above the river and bending down to peer in. He already had a scraped knee and a bruised elbow from the day's events, but that was par for the course with Ted Lupin. That night it was warm enough that Harry conjured two cots in the courtyard and they slept suspended over the grass, staring at the stars until Teddy wound down and his regular breathing told Harry that he was sleeping. Harry, exhausted, wasn't long in following.
When he woke, it was because he heard something; someone singing in the distance, perhaps, echoing down into the courtyard. He was lying on his side, and when he opened his eyes he was reassured. Teddy was sleeping quietly.
Except someone else was sitting on the ground near Teddy's bed, and as Harry watched a nimble-fingered hand stroked back a lock of unruly blue hair, smoothing it against his head. Just another dream, then; it must be Teddy, making him think of Remus, because Remus was dead and not a ghost, and yet there he was.
His godson's father sat crosslegged at the head of the cot, that oddly out-of-place sword still on his belt, stroking his son's hair. His mouth hardly moved, but Harry could hear him sing softly, a little out of key.
Dance ti thy daddy, sing ti thy mammy,
Dance ti thy daddy, ti thy mammy sing.
Harry didn't know the song, but Remus clearly did.
Here's thy mother humming,
Like a canny woman;
Yonder comes thy father,
Drunk he cannot stand;
Dance ti thy daddy, sing ti thy mammy...
Harry glanced down at the sword, resting on the ground and sticking out a little behind the man wearing it. Remus was in shades of grey and white, no colour to him, and the sword was likewise; the rubies in the pommel and hilt were black. It was sheathed in a scabbard that was deep gray with more black gemstones laid into it.
Harry heard Remus chuckle, and he redirected his attentions to the singing. Teddy slept on, oblivious.
Here is little Teddy
Dreaming in his bed --
Near him bigger Harry
Watching over him,
Dance ti thy daddy, sing ti thy mammy,
Dance ti thy daddy, ti thy mammy sing.
Remus glanced up at Harry as he finished, a half-smile still on his face. When he saw Harry's eyes open, he hesitated; he glanced from Teddy to Harry and back again, the smile disappearing into a thoughtful frown. Harry, curious, pushed himself up on one elbow, turning to look at him properly.
Their eyes met, Harry's green eyes and the grayish ones that had been brown in life. Remus fell backwards onto his elbows, startled.
"You can see me," he said, shocked. Harry blinked.
"It's a dream, isn't it?" he asked. Remus struggled backwards and pushed himself to his feet.
"Bugger -- SIRIUS! SIRIUS!"
And then Sirius was there, appearing in the midst of movement, as if he'd been running and Apparating at the same time. He had his wand out and it was his Sirius, not the one he'd seen the day he defeated Voldemort -- an older Sirius, hair falling in his eyes, lines in his face thrown in stark relief by the gray tone of his skin.
"I'm here! What is it? He was sleeping!" he said, looking around like a dog on the scent.
"Sirius," Harry breathed, and Sirius turned to look at him.
"He can see us," Remus whispered.
"Bollocks," Sirius said uncertainly. "Harry," he added, cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting unnecessarily. "If -- you -- can -- see -- us -- say -- so."
"Of course I can see you," Harry retorted. Both men blanched.
"TONKS!" Sirius shouted, apparently into the air. "SEND HELP!"
"Help for what?" Harry asked, but even as he asked it he heard distant shouting. He turned in the direction of the noise -- his fireplace inside, it sounded like -- and when he turned back both men were gone.
Someone was still shouting for him, though.
"HARRY! HARRY! ARE YOU THERE?"
Arthur's voice. Harry slid off the cot, checked to see that Teddy was fine, and ran inside.
"I'm here, Arthur, Christ," he said. "It's two in the morning, what's going on?"
"Are you all right, lad?" Arthur asked, looking worried -- and also like he'd just rolled out of bed himself.
"Of course I am. Shouldn't I be?" Harry asked, perplexed.
"No, you should, certainly..." Arthur trailed off, then gave Harry the most embarrassed look he'd ever seen. "Sorry, Harry. Call it paternal instinct -- I just had the sudden urge to floo."
"Well, I'm all right," Harry said. "Got Teddy here, we're camping out. I'd better get back to him, too."
"Certainly, of course. Well -- floo if you need anything at all, all right?"
"Sure, Arthur," Harry said, and leaned out of the flames.
He walked back to the courtyard with apprehension, not certain what he would find there; as it turned out, only Teddy, still in his cot but with his eyes open.
"Hey," Harry said, lying down on his own cot next to the boy's. "You shouldn't be up."
"Where'd you go?" Teddy asked.
"Nowhere -- I'm back now. You can go back to sleep."
"I want a story," Teddy said, then added, "Please."
Harry smiled indulgently. It was his job to spoil the kid, after all. "All right, lean back. Now, you see all those stars up there?"
"Mm-hm."
"They were all named for heroes that used to be. See those six over there? I'll tell you a story about them..."
***
The next day was one for visiting; Harry brushed Teddy's hair, made sure he looked presentable, and after breakfast they went to Shell Cottage to see Bill and Fleur and little Victoire. Harry sat in the sunny kitchen with Fleur, catching up on the family gossip (she hadn't yet heard about Ron and Hermione getting Not Married) while they watched Bill play rough-and-tumble with the children.
"Well, marriage ees not for ever'one," Fleur reflected, brushing and braiding her long silver-white hair. "Per'aps 'Ermione does not 'ave zee temperament for eet."
"She doesn't seem to mind the idea of living with him," Harry answered. "Maybe she's afraid."
"Afraid of what, 'appiness?" Fleur asked. Harry watched as Bill spun around, Teddy clinging to one arm, little Victoire holding onto the other, her red hair streaked in front with white and flying in the wind.
"Maybe a little," Harry said.
"I do not know. Per'aps you zink so because you are, eh 'Arry?"
Harry looked up sharply.
"Are you afraid of 'appiness?"
"No -- this is what I want," he said. "A family. A normal life. It's what I've always wanted."
"Mm," Fleur said, smiling tolerantly at him. "Zen eet ees good you picked zee beegest, loudest family you could find."
"Maybe so," Harry said, grinning. "You should come round for dinner sometime, the three of you."
"Zank you, 'Arry," Fleur said, securing the tip of her braid with a knot of ribbon. "We will, of course."
At that moment Victoire burst into the house, squealing. "Teddy a mangé un bug! Un bug colossal!"
"Did not!" Teddy called, following after.
"Did so," Victoire insisted, turning to face him. Teddy balled his fists, looming over her by all of an inch.
"Did not!"
"Did!"
"Five Galleons says they fall in love by the time they're out of Hogwarts," Harry said to Bill.
"You're on," Bill answered, scooping up Victoire and setting her on the chair next to Harry.
"Come on, trouble, it's time to say bye," Harry said, jerking his head at the floo. "We're going to see Professor Longbottom now."
"Goodbye Victoire," Teddy said sullenly.
"And what do you say to Bill and Fleur?"
"Thank you."
"Good lad." Harry pointed at Bill. "I'll expect those five Galleons in 2016."
Bill's laughter was the last thing they heard as they stepped into the floo.
***
Neville didn't spend much time in his office during the school year, preoccupied as he was with students and his Herbology experiments out in the greenhouse. In the summers, however, the castle was cool and quiet and Harry rather thought Neville could use the break. He knew that, as brave as Neville had been in their last years at Hogwarts, he was still shy and sometimes indrawn; Neville confessed that he still got nervous every time he was confronted with a new class of first-years, until he got to know them.
"Afternoon, Harry," Neville said, looking up from a book as the pair of them emerged from the floo. "Hallo, Teddy, how're you?"
"Fine, thanks," Teddy said, then turned to Harry. "I can play with people?"
"Not today, I'm afraid," Harry said. "They've all gone home for the summer."
"Why?"
"It's what students do." Harry set him down and opened the office door. "But I tell you what, if you're very good and don't wander, you can explore the hallway -- see, from there," he pointed to the stairwell at one end, "to here. You can talk to the paintings if you want."
Teddy ambled off without a backwards glance, accosting a low-hung painting of three elderly witches, and Harry left the door open as he ducked back inside.
"Your letter this morning seemed a little upset," Neville said, putting the book aside and kicking a chair over with one foot. Harry caught it and sat backwards on it, resting his arms on the back. His eyes were drawn upwards, to the wooden bracket that hung (well out of reach of curious students) above Neville's fireplace. Neville followed his gaze, smiling faintly at the Sword of Gryffindor mounted on the bracket. "Not nervous about the sword, are you? Don't tell me the Wizarding World needs a champion again."
"God, I hope not," Harry said feelingly.
"Oh, speaking of which, this'll amuse you -- guess who I had in class this year."
"Who?" Harry asked.
"Agamemnon Umbridge."
Harry blinked. "Relation to...?"
"Her son. Can you imagine? Someone spawned with that odious woman." Neville laughed. "I guess it's true there's someone for everyone."
"But that means he would have been born when we were -- "
"First-years, more or less. Apparently when she came to teach she left him with a nanny. He's not a bad student, actually, though I did have to train him out of using every composition as a soapbox. He has some hazy idea of what she stood for...he'll learn, I think. I wish..."
"What?"
"Something I never thought I'd say, but I wish Snape was still around. He'd crush that kid like a bug, get whatever was worthwhile bleeding up to the surface, and then crush him again just to make sure it stayed there. I never appreciated his technique till I was a teacher myself."
"He wasn't a good teacher."
"No, but he was an effective one." Neville sighed. "Probably not a good memory to bring up. Anyway, you wanted to talk to me."
"It's just...I had some questions for you."
"For me?" Neville looked pleased. "Well, I'll try to answer as best I can, Harry, you know that, but I can't imagine what you'd want from a dusty professor."
"It's stupid, really," Harry said. "I was wondering if I could...take the Sword down for a bit. Try it out, you know."
Neville waved a hand at the bracket. "Be my guest. Any reason why?"
"Sort of," Harry said, dragging the chair over and stepping up on it to lift the Sword of Gryffindor out of its mount. He jumped down lightly, sword in hand, and tested its weight. It felt warm in his grip. He swung it in an experimental arc.
"Mind the lamp," Neville said dryly.
"Sorry. It feels real, doesn't it?"
"Do you think it isn't?" Neville asked. "I suppose someone might have swapped it out on me, but I doubt it."
"Not precisely swapped."
"Harry, you're being awfully cryptic. You sound like Dumbledore, a bit," Neville observed.
"I thought I saw someone else with it -- a ghost, I guess," Harry replied, turning the sword so that it hung point-downwards, hilt gripped in one hand. The rubies sparkled in the sunlight. "I've been seeing things lately and I'm not sure if they're real."
Neville regarded him warily. Harry shrugged, sighed, and shook his head.
"Do you think you're hexed?" Neville asked. "Want me to have a look at you?"
"I can't imagine I am, but if you like..." Harry propped the sword against a bookcase and spread his arms.
Neville stood, a serious frown of concentration on his face, and walked forward until he was eye-to-eye with Harry, close enough for discomfort. He raised his hands and, cocking his head for tacit permission, touched Harry's temples, then his throat. Harry would never have allowed such familiarity from a stranger, even from a Healer, but Neville's touch was cool and clinical, almost detached. He shook his wand out of his sleeve and pressed it to Harry's heart, then drew it downwards to the buckle of his belt. He bent and examined his ankles and the toe-tips of his shoes.
"Well, I can't see anything unusual," he said finally, moving away. "I don't suppose you want to tell me what it is you see, precisely?"
"Not yet."
"Does it worry you?" Neville asked, and Harry saw a flicker of old fear in his friend's eyes.
"I wouldn't say worry. They don't seem to mean any harm. I guess I'm getting paranoid in my old age," Harry grinned.
"Well, that's the way it is with us," Neville replied, seating himself once more. Harry sat too, reaching out to take the sword, holding it between his hands, the sharp point pressed against the stone floor.
"How do you mean that?" he asked.
"The paranoia?" Neville laughed, nervously. "Look at us, Harry. You and Ron are Aurors, Hermione works for the MLE, poor Luna never stays in one place long enough to put down roots...we're still fighting the war. I think sometimes we will be, our whole lives."
"Even you, Professor?" Harry asked.
Neville's face, no longer the round, chubby face of a schoolboy, seemed to lengthen, the shadows falling deeper in his cheeks.
"When I came back to Hogwarts two years ago, everyone thought I was taking over Herbology from Professor Sprout," he said softly. "Everyone expected it. When Sprout retires in a few years I probably will, too. But that wasn't the job that was going, and it wasn't the one I wanted back then. I had to fight McGonagall to get her to give me the Defence Against the Dark Arts job, even though nobody else would take it. I didn't even know why then, couldn't have told her, and she asked many times. Academia gives you a lot of time to think, though..."
"And?" Harry prompted.
"I discovered I'd chosen this job, here, because when the war came again I wanted the children to know how to fight."
Harry leaned back, startled. "Neville, that's eight kinds of messed up. The war's not coming again."
"Don't think I haven't told myself that. But isn't that why you're an Auror? To make sure it doesn't? So that when it does, you'll see it coming?"
Harry felt as if he'd been slapped in the face. He never expected Neville to be insightful, especially not so sharply, painfully so.
"See?" Neville asked. "You know, after it all happened I had a hard time. I know you remember. Barely ate, barely spoke to anyone...I used to wrap the sword up in a sheet and sleep with it at night. Just in case. It took me almost a year to feel safe again. I still dream that I muffed it somehow, that I missed the snake and it all ended in death..."
"Neville, please," Harry said, ears ringing.
"Sorry. Sorry," Neville muttered, turning his face away. Harry exhaled slowly. "But it's true, isn't it. And now you come to me and tell me you're seeing things, and we all know last time you saw things too."
"This is different."
"I hope to Merlin so, Harry. I really do."
Harry wasn't sure what to say, but he was saved by a noise from the hallway -- a childish yelp of glee followed shortly by a low, catlike yowl. He held up a hand and listened; after a second, Teddy shoved the door open wider, staggering inside.
He was carrying a cat, arms wrapped around its midsection the way children carry cats that are almost as big as they are. The cat herself wore a humiliated, long-suffering look, but her claws were sheathed.
"Kitty," Teddy said proudly, presenting himself to the two men.
"Yes," Harry said. "Put the Headmistress down, Teddy."
"Good kitty," Teddy pronounced, setting her on the floor and patting her head roughly. There was a hiss of indrawn breath, and up from the floor spiraled the familiar, black-clad form of Headmistress McGonagall.
Teddy stared up at her in awe. "Cool!"
"Thank you, Theodore," she answered, straightening her robes. "Good afternoon, Harry. I wasn't aware you were visiting Hogwarts."
"Neville and I've just been talking over old war stories," Harry said with a smile. McGonagall wasn't fooled; he watched in dismay as her eyes slid down to the sword he still held in both hands, its nickless blade gleaming. Suddenly he felt eleven years old again; from the expression on Neville's face, he wasn't the only one.
"Well," she said, in carefully measured tones, "I'm certain you won't let past glory go to your heads."
"Not at all," Harry agreed, trying to be casual while holding a large sword. He swung his leg over the chair, stepped up, and replaced the sword in its bracket. "You know me, Headmistress," he grunted, securing it firmly. "I never let fame bother me."
"Glad to hear it. Neville, if you aren't too busy, there are some items I'd like to go over with you for the new school year..."
"Right you are," Neville agreed shakily. "Thanks for coming by, Harry."
"I appreciate it. Teddy, time to go back to the Hollow," Harry said, taking the boy's hand. Teddy was still staring at McGonagall, eyes wide as saucers.
"She's a cat," he whispered to Harry.
"Don't let her know," Harry whispered back. McGonagall touched his arm.
"I don't see you as often as I would like," she said, her face less disapproving now. "Come to tea sometime, Harry; the sooner, the better."
Harry smiled back. "Of course. I'll be in touch, I promise."
"Good," she said, and let him go. Neville was rummaging in his desk, and held up a roll of parchment triumphantly.
"Before you leave, Harry," he said, offering it to him. "Here. It's some research notes on, uh, what we talked about. Might help."
"Ta." Harry tucked the scroll in his pocket and led Teddy to the floo. "Always a pleasure, Headmistress."
"Likewise," she replied, her eyes drifting back to the sword. "Travel safely, Harry."
"I always do."
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